


Kentucky Fried Oreos

by Unlucky_charm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Sam, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Dean Winchester Teaches Castiel About Sex, Dirty Talk, First Time, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food Sex, Human Castiel, Loss of Virginity, Lube, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Top Dean, Virgin Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unlucky_charm/pseuds/Unlucky_charm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn't know what lube is. Dean is pissed. And Castiel still doesn't know what lube is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kentucky Fried Oreos

**Author's Note:**

> As a Canadian, state abbreviations were never my forte. 
> 
> Until now.

 

The list of battles he fought alongside the Winchesters could only be matched by the list of inconspicuous diners Castiel was dragged to by the two brothers.  He could start a blog about it. Or at the very least, a pretentious Yelp account.

After a blur of restaurants named “Restaurant” and diners named “Diner” or “Popular 60’s woman’s name,” Castiel had a pretty solid idea of what ‘deep-fried’ entailed and why it was so necessary Dean shovel it down his throat.

The ‘Oreo’ part, however,  now eluded him.

“You can’t eat that,” Sam said, breaking the moment of silence following Dean’s announcement.

Castiel was familiar with all of his father’s creations and as far as he was concerned , there was neither a bird nor a vegetable that went by ‘Oreo,’ those two categories being what humans seemed to prefer deep-frying.

“Oh yes I can,” Dean scoffed. “Watch me.”

He reached into the smaller of the grease stained paper bags containing their lunch and retrieved an even greasier puck shaped wax parchment bundle. He weighed what Castiel assumed was the deep-fried Oreo in his hand, grinning at it hungrily before it was smacked straight out of his hand.

The mysterious food item flew across the room, hit the wall and then fell to the ground with a wet plop, as Dean and Sam often do in their encounters with especially powerful demons.  

The last time Castiel saw Dean make that face, Sam had just gotten shot in the shoulder.

“What the hell, Sammy?”

“I’m not letting you eat that,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Last time I checked,” Dean’s voice rose as he stepped closer to jab an accusing finger at Sam’s forearm. “You are not my mother. And even if you were my mother, _Samantha_ , believe it or not _I_ am not a kid anymore.”

“Dean,” Sam sighed, arms coming undone and falling to his sides.

In Dean’s defense, Sam’s mannerisms were currently reminiscent of a motherly figure.

“I wasn’t going to say anything –“

“Then don’t!” Dean shouted, loud enough that he startled Castiel in the middle of his undercover mission to retrieve the perplexing Oreo.

The Winchesters began their game of matching the other’s machismo in volume. Their voices bounced off the concrete walls of the bunker, but Castiel paid them no attention. Deafened by determination, he salvaged the fried Oreo from the floor and carefully, began to unwrap it. Oil glistened on the pads of his fingers, which would bother him if he weren’t so enthralled at the moment. He almost gasped when powdered sugar escaped from the creases of the wrapping, floating down onto his clothes. The smell of sweetness hit him square in the stomach even before the crinkling ceased.

Two more folds before the unveiling and then, disappointment brought his hearing back.

“Dean , you can’t afford to poison your body with crap like this. You’re not –”

“This is a ball of fried dough.” Castiel’s announcement, quiet but firm, interrupted their screaming match.

“What?”

“This,” he repeated, holding it out in the palm of his hand. “This is a ball of fried dough.”

“Yeah, Cas. That is, in fact, a ball of fried dough.” Castiel knew he was pointing out what everyone else already knew, but hated that Dean had to be so snarky about it. Sure, every now and then he felt the need to state the obvious, but at least he wasn’t blind to it like _some_  people. But that was an issue for another day.

“Pardon my ignorance, Dean,” he said with just the right amount of venom. “I was not aware that balls of fried dough were also called Oreos. I can’t seem to trace the linguistic origins of the word.”

Dean’s impatience melted right off his face and was replaced with the smile that had Castiel’s heart attempting to crawl out through his oesophagus. It was a fond smile, reserved for when Dean got to teach Castiel about something he loved. Not tooth brushing or shoe tying. This smile came with stories of their childhood, the workings of Baby’s engine, pie, and apparently, fried Oreos.

“Cas. This is _so_ much more than a ball of dough.”

Sam’s eye roll indicated otherwise.

Dean walked over to Castiel and stood before him, excited smile still in place. He picked up the pastry, held it up to Cas’ face, not unlike a magician at a child’s birthday party, and proceeded to split it through the center.

Castiel had been wrong. It wasn’t just a ball of dough; there was something inside. A white cream like substance was sandwiched between two slices of something black and crumbly.

“Is that the Oreo?” he asked.

“Yup. ‘S a cookie,” Dean said proudly, as though he invented them himself.

“You can deep fry cookies?”

“You tell me.”

And Castiel had not realised his mouth was left open, because Dean’s fingers brushing against his lips to pop the larger half into his mouth came absolutely out of nowhere.

He felt a blush blossoming, but it was interrupted by the sudden explosion of sugary flavour overtaking his palate.

“Mmmm...” he moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. “How...?”

“I uh- “ Dean cleared his throat and looked at the wall. “I dunno. Just works somehow.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what he was enjoying more, the miracle that was the fried Oreo or Dean’s sudden discomfort. He brought this on to himself, after all. Castiel never asked to be fed.

“This is sin,” he spoke around the big bite.

“You’re a terrible influence.” Sam’s arms were back across his chest, stubborn and unmoving.

“Stay out is this. He’s enjoyin’ himself,” Dean snapped and seemed to only just remember the second half of the fried Oreo still sitting in his hand. “Speaking of which...”

The last bite disappeared behind his lips and Dean shared Castiel’s expression of pure delight shortly after.

“Fu-!” He cursed through the mouthful.

“Cas.” Sam huffed, turning his back to Dean to address Castiel. “These foods are really bad for Dean. Don’t you think he should care more about his health? Stuff like this can kill him!”

When Sam resorted to convincing _Cas_ to join his team in an argument against _Dean_ , you knew he was desperate. Which is why Castiel decided to throw him a bone (while maintain a neutral position of course).

“Dean’s obsession with unhealthy foods is quite worrisome, yes. But I don’t think it is up to us to change that if he is not willing.”

“Hey!”

Castiel glared as the particles of chewed food flew at his face. Perhaps it wasn’t Dean’s diet that sought improvement. He actually _heard_ the hunter swallow from a few feet away.

“I’m unhealthy, but I’m not obsessed! It’s not like I pop a boner every time I see a cannoli in a bakery display.”

“You might as well,” Sam grumbled.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you!” Dean scoffed. “I saw you in the grocery store with that cantaloupe, all intimate like you were looking into its eyes!”

“Eyes? Wha – Dean, I was _smelling_ it.”

“Gross, Sammy. Cas doesn’t need to hear that.” Dean scrunched up his face.

“That’s how you –!”

“Dean,” Cas cut in before they started yelling again. “I’m not siding with Sam, but I do believe you have a problem.”

“I don’t –“

“Dean.” He said, firmly enough to silence him. Castiel allowed a sigh to escape his lips. He didn’t want to do this to him, but if Sam insisted it was beneficial, then Cas would abide, at least a little.

“You keep a container of preserves in the drawer of your nightstand. That is unusual behaviour and, might I add, _obsessive_ behaviour.”

Confusion was not the reaction Castiel was expecting. Anger and betrayal were usually the appropriate responses to the revelation of an embarrassing secret. Humans didn’t commonly keep jars of preserves in their bedrooms, he was sure of it.

“Preserves?”

“Yes. In a jar.” Okay, so maybe he didn’t sound so sure of it anymore.

“Oh my God,” Sam scoffed. “You keep jam next to your bed?”

“No, I don’t! I have no clue what he’s talking about.” Then, turning to Cas, “Why were you snoopin’ around in my room anyway?”

“You asked me to go get your keys. I couldn’t find them,” he explained, sheepishly staring down at his shoes. Perhaps this preserves business was more private than he had thought. Dean wasn’t one to deny something that weren’t his feelings.

“So you went through my stuff.”

“When they weren’t _on_ your nightstand, like you said they would be, I thought to look _in_.”

“And you found... preserves,” Dean deadpanned.

“Yes.”

“So you’re telling me that, if I go into my room right now and open the drawer of my nightstand,  I will find  a jar of jam.”

“No.”

“No?”

Castiel felt like he was being chastised, which he probably was, but Dean’s interrogation was making him nervous. Was there something so wrong with keeping preserves in one’s bedroom? What was the nature of this taboo?

“Not jam. .. Jelly.”

Dean let out a breath, shut his eyes, and ran a hand over his face.

“Is there a difference?” He asked, forcing his voice into temperance.

“I don’t know. That’s what it said on the jar.”

“Oh yeah? Know the flavour too?” He snorted and rolled his eyes as he turned away from Castiel.

“No... unless Kentucky is a flavour.”

“Kentucky is a state, Cas.” Said Sam, who seemed just as lost as his brother.

“I know. I assumed that’s where the jelly was from. Perhaps Kentucky produces a distinct spice that –”

“They don’t,” Dean snapped.

“Why don’t we go check then,” Sam said smugly, pushing himself out of his chair.

“No need.” Dean stepped between his brother and the hallway that lead to the bedrooms. “Because I definitely do _not_ have a jar of jelly from freakin’ Kentucky in the drawer of my nightstand.”

Dean seemed pretty angry now and Castiel did not enjoy the pangs of guilt rippling in his chest when Dean looked at him. He needed to fix this.

“My apologies, Dean. I suppose my eyes deceived me.”

“Yes,” he cleared his throat. “I suppose so.”

Relief washed out the guilt as Dean noticeably began to deflate and in retrospect, maybe it would have been wise to end the matter there. Unfortunately, just like Dean, Castiel had very little sense of self preservation.

“It’s just that... I could’ve sworn I saw a small jar of ‘KY Jelly’ when I opened the drawer, but I guess not.”

Castiel had only ever seen spit takes on television. Up until now, it seemed like something too ridiculous to occur outside the context of slapstick comedy.

As Sam choked on his sip, banging his fist against his chest, a roaring blush shocked Dean’s face. No one seemed too concerned about the large spray of water Sam just spewed all over the Men of Letters documents on the table.

“Ah... Uh....” random syllables stumbled out of Dean’s mouth into an aborted question. His lips moved soundlessly, finger raised before him, making a point nobody could hear.

“Cas,” Sam said, voice hoarse from coughing. “That’s not - KY Jelly isn’t uh...” His head snapped back and forth between his brother and the angel, torn between providing Cas with an explanation and not combusting under Dean’s fiery glare.

“You see,” he cleared his throat, “when two people love each other –or themselves –very much –”

“SAM.” Dean growled at his brother who shot two feet out of his seat. “ _Leave.”_

“Okay,” Sam said, hands raised in front of him. “Okay, that’s –I’m gonna go. You uh, you enjoy the Oreos.”

Dean’s snarling face followed  a stumbling Sam all the way out of the room. And with that, Castiel was left alone with an absolutely furious looking Dean.

“I... I think there has been a terrible misunderstanding on my part,” Castiel thought out loud, this time actually missing what was obvious to everyone else.

“Oh, you think?” Dean spat through clenched teeth.

Castiel was pinned, frozen in place by his gaze. Dean’s frown plunged deep over his eyes that glowed fiercely green form rage. He was alight and Castiel was intrigued, despite being terrified.

“Dean, I want to apologize, I do. I just don’t know what to apologize for!” He pleaded, arms spread wide at his sides. “I still... I still don’t know what it is I found in your drawer.”

“Clearly,” Dean said. He did not shift his stance and continued to fix Castiel with his solid glare, like an angry bull about to charge, flaring nostrils and all.

He really should have read the rest of that label.

 Castiel was worrying his bottom lip raw with his teeth, trying to avoid Dean’s gaze and failing miserably. It was impossible not to make eye contact with a person who wouldn’t stop staring at you. This is what women at bars must experience; Castiel was feeling thoroughly uncomfortable.

“Would you like me to show you?”

The sudden calmness in Dean’s tone surprised him, but Dean himself was far from calm.

His frown had retreated and he seemed to have cooled down, but Castiel knew better than to let his guard down. Dean Winchester knew how to hide emotions, he knew how to look kind and trusting while holding a knife behind his back. Castiel had both of his hands in plain view, but that didn’t eliminate his chances of getting stabbed, even in the metaphorical sense. Dean was devious like that, but Castiel has never been on the receiving end of it until now.

Then again, how threatening could jelly be? Besides, he was dying to know what kind of jelly causes so much scandal by mere mention.

“Yes, please.”

Before he even dared protest, Dean grabbed hold of Castiel’s arm and dragged him out of the room. The research was left behind, but the rest of the Oreos were coming with them. Perhaps the secret jelly was best served with fried goods.

Once they entered his bedroom, Dean shut the door being them and twisted the lock shut.

“Strip,” he commanded, without a mere second glance in Castiel’s direction, as he made a  beeline for the nightstand.

Castiel heard a drawer open and shut behind him before Dean reappeared in front of him, bag of fried Oreos replaced with the infamous jar of jelly.

Dean leaned against the door, tossing the jar in the airs and catching it, as he watched Castiel undress. His fingers shook while he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a fresh flush spreading across his chest. What was the purpose of this? Was it supposed to feel so intimate? Dean had cleaned some of his wounds in the past, but never have his eyes felt so intrusive against his naked body.

He kicked off his pants and sat down on the edge of the bed in his underwear.

“You good?” Dean asked, all too casually.

Castiel was halfway through a nod when Dean tossed him the jar. He caught it effortlessly and held his breath as he turned it over to reveal the label.

KY Jelly

Personal Lubricant

Quickly prepares you for intimacy

Protects against discomfort

Recommended by gynecologists

Oh.

“This... this is n-not edible.”

“Nope.” He popped the ‘P’ at the end and Castiel knew to expect no mercy.

“This is for _sexual_ use.”

“Yup.”

Oh no. Sam...

“Dean!” He bolted to his feet, wild apologies ready to pour out of his mouth. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I thought the letters –”

“Castiel,” Dean interrupted, followed by a smirk as Castiel shivered noticeably at the use of his full name.

“Yes, Dean.” He straightened, but continued to stare down at the jar he was fiddling with.

“I asked you a question.”

Dean stepped forward into Castiel’s space and gently placed both of his hands over his own, cupping the jar too. Castiel stared down, completely mesmerized by the gesture.

“Cas,” he said softly.

Castiel stared up and tried to contain the intensity of Dean’s gaze.

“Would you like me to show you?”

What?

Oh.

_Oh._

Castiel was sure a couple of wide eyed eternities passed before he managed to articulate speech again.

“Yes, please.”

The lubricant was snatched out of his loose grasp, as Dean’s other hand pressed firmly against his chest. The tips of his fingers burned into his skin as Castiel was pushed down onto the bed with a gasp.

There was no smile this time, Castiel noted as Dean crawled up along his body. What he was about to teach him was not about pie, or cars, or fried Oreos. Dean’s shoulder blades tented under his shirt, but Castiel could only marvel at the catlike movements for a second before he was completely unravelled by the pure predatory darkness of Dean’s eyes.

Castiel tried to sit up on his elbows, but was roughly shoved back downwards immediately. Dean’s free hand gripped the back of his neck as he brought their heads together. They lay, chest to chest, forehead to forehead, and Castiel prayed Dean planned on kissing him. He could feel the front of the hunter’s jeans grazing over the bulge of his underwear, but that’s all it was. A graze. Every fiber in his body told him to buck his hips, grind upwards, finally feel what his body was crying out for since day one, but how could he? Dean was looking at him again and that meant he was paralyzed.

 “Cas,” he whispered, his hot breath tingling across the angel’s lips. “Do you understand what’s about to happen?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“And you’re okay with it?” He sounded like he was panting, but had hardly moved at all.

Castiel stared out to the side and pursed his lips, contemplating the question for a second.

“Am I here so you can show me how lubricant works?” He asked.

“No.”

He couldn’t help the smirk on his lips nor the breath of relief that escaped his lungs.

“I am more than okay, Dean.”

It was as though Dean had let all of his weight drop when he crushed their lips together. Castiel till felt the impact throb against his teeth when Dean began to work his mouth open with his own.

Dean’ lips glided over Cas’, barely touching at first, feeling the chapped skin scratch at the softness the hunter somehow managed to maintain. Castiel went still, letting Dean orchestrate the push and pull of their kissing.

Dean pushed against him, hard, pressing into him to the point where he couldn’t kiss back, even if he tried to. Dean dug into Castiel and poured himself into him until he was filled to the brink.

And just when he feared he would overflow, that he couldn’t take any more, Dean pulled and took Castiel with him. Their mouths peeled off of each other with languid slowness, Castiel’ lower lips trapped between his teeth.

Dean kissed him like people had sex in movies, which Castiel was wrongly told “wasn’t real.” Slowly and intensely, Dean took Castiel apart with ever pull and held him together with every push.

Dean licked and lapped and worshipped his mouth, two firm hands pressed on each side of Castiel’s face. Trapped under this big body, the angel didn’t know if he felt safe or vulnerable anymore. Hell, he didn’t want to know.

Castiel didn’t notice when one hand disappeared, as the other hand spread its fingers over his face. Dean’s thumb grazed over his lower lip, occasionally tugging it down to reveal his teeth. He pressed his nail into the plumpness, then swiping away at the half moon mark with his tongue.

Dean watched with lowered eyes as said lip quivered under the sudden attention.

Dean growled, almost in frustration. “You have a pretty mouth, Cas.”

Castiel glanced down at Dean’s hand, as if he could actually see his own mouth, before poking his tongue out to suck on the pad of Dean’s thumb.

“Fuck,” Dean hissed and leaned back in to taste Castiel’s tongue, only to watch it disappear.

The hunter did not bother hiding his annoyance and Castiel couldn’t help giggling.

“Goddamn tease,” he groaned. “I know how to make you open up.”

Dean ground hard into him, the rough denim tugging down the thin layer of cotton and eliciting the filthiest of moans from Castiel’s mouth.

“There we go,” Dean growled and pressed his thumb through the threshold of the angel’s parted lips. Castiel held Dean’s gaze as he sucked and swirled his tongue around his finger.

“Love it when you make those noises, Cas. Want to hear you moan like before.”

In Castiel’s mind, ‘before’ was a mere ten second ago, until he realised what Dean’s other hand was so busy doing this entire time.

“I think we should split this one too,” he said and, true to his word, broke the fried Oreo in two. He set one half on the bed and continued to crumble the other, sprinkling the bite sizes all over Castiel’s naked torso. “Bet’ll taste sweeter like this.”

Castiel gasped when Dean’s tongue ran flat over his chest, picking up the smaller crumbs and bits of the pastry. The hunter followed the same trail down, kissing open mouthed kisses over the already wet skin. Castiel shivered as the cool air dried the dampness, but the warmth of Dean’s mouth was quick to return, this time sucking up a larger piece at the center of his pectoral. His tongue flicked over his nipple playfully in the process, maybe by accident at first, but Castiel’s reaction was enough to spur some new intentions in Dean.

“Dean!”

The hunter let out a low, guttural growl at the sound of his name and rolled Castiel’s hardened nipple between his teeth. It stung as Dean tugged and released, but his lapping tongue followed closely behind to relieve the reddening nub.

He was on a rollercoaster of sensation as Dean ate sweet dough off of his bare body and ravished him with his mouth, as though he himself was dessert.

Castiel sat up on his elbows to watch Dean pick up a trail of crumbled cookie leading straight down his navel, catching on the line of hair that disappeared under the waistband of his underwear. He kissed his navel, glided his lips over the cotton until they met the aching bulge wetting through the thin fabric. Castiel’s breath caught in his throat as Dean sucked at that very wet spot.

“ _Dean.”_ Castiel whined, arching his back off the mattress again. He needed Dean to touch him more than he was. To taste him more than he was.

His conservative touches were driving him mad, blossoming teasing bouts of warmth over his skin. He wanted to be entirely engulfed in Dean.  He wanted to burn under Dean.

“Soon baby, soon. I promised I’d split it with you, remember?”

Dean slid back up the length of his body. He grabbed the second half and placed it in the palm of his hand, holding it out right under Castiel’s chin.

For once, the angel got the message loud and clear. But before eating out of the palm of Dean’s hand, Castiel’s mouth enveloped each finger, one by one, sucking and swirling at every digit. The tips of his fingers were sweet from the fried Oreos and Castiel made sure to give each one equal amount of attention.  Watching Dean’s eyes roll back had him bucking his hips again.

Dean dipped him thumb into the cookie center and spread the white cream middle across Castiel’s bottom lips.

A low chuckle escaped his lips. “Your mouth looks good in white, Cas.” he whispered as he leaned in to suck on the sweetness.

They kissed again, their mouths battling for the remaining sugar left between them. Castiel almost wished they hadn’t eaten the Oreos. He wanted to taste Dean alone, find out how the smell of sweat, motor oil, and rain translated on his tongue.

His quest to dig beneath the attack of fried dough and powdered sugar was brought to a gasping halt when Dean’s hand tightly gripped the bulge throbbing between his legs. The hunter sat up, mercilessly smirking down at the angel he’d trapped underneath him.

“There’s about two ways you can use lube.” His thumb stroked circles over the damp cotton. “Looks like I’ll only have to show you one.”

Dean’s body slithered back over Cas’, teeth nipping their way from nipple, to jaw, to earlobe. Castiel shivered at the feel of the tip of Dean’s tongue tracing the shell of his ear.

“You’re fucking soaked, Cas.” He whispered and all Castiel could provide in return was a soft, impatient mewl.  

“Sssh, darling.” His underwear was inching downward. “We’ll go as fast as your learning curve allows.”

Castiel, chewing on his lip, nodded. He had no idea what it said about his learning curve, but if Dean didn’t touch him now, he was going lose it.

He felt wetness at the base of his stomach as his cock was sprung free from his underwear. Dean’s fingers wrapped around him almost immediately, for which he was extremely thankful.

“Dean,” he whimpered, tossing his head left and right on the pillow. Dean’s thumb was running over his slit, pressing down, and milking him for every last drop.

“See, I’m not a precum kind of guy, so lube really helps for jacking off.” Dean was sliding back down again and Castiel stopped breathing in anticipation. Was he...? He wouldn’t...

“But you don’t need any of that, do you Cas?”

With absolutely no warning, Dean flattened his tongue at the base of Castiel’s cock and dragged it all the way back up to the tip in one clean swipe.

“Fuck!” Cas cried.

“Nah, you don’t. You do just fine all on your own, don’t you.”

Dean spoke against his cock, the tip of tongue grazing the sensitive skin of his head. Castiel didn’t think he could take it anymore. His entire body was shaking, waiting for Dean’s touch, craving more and more of it as the hunter continued to tease his way around.

It just felt right when his knees bent and his legs lifted off the mattress to wrap around Dean’s torso. With his heels pressing into the small of his back, Castiel pulled Dean closer to him.

He felt the guttural chuckle against the inside of his thigh, followed by a soft bite that had him reeling.

“Dean. Dean, please teach me the other way.” He panted, while Dean’s mouth proceeded to gently suck at the tip, only to dip down and press open kisses all the way back up.

“I will, angel.”

Castiel felt the heat of Dean’s palm cupping his balls and cold wetness rubbing at his entrance. He shuddered at the touch. He needed more of it, but the first instinct of his cursed human body was to deny the other man.

“Dean,” he arched his back, but the rest of him remained stiff. No matter how much he showed him he wanted it, there was no fooling Dean, especially when he had his finger pressed against his hole.

“Cas, I need you to relax,” he spoke with his cheek resting against his thigh, hot breath ghosting through leg hairs.

“I can’t...” he whispered and then, “it... it won’t let me.” He added in between frustrated groans.

He felt Dean chuckle hoarsely, imagining the bob if his Adam’s apple up and down his stubble throat. He wished he could see him, all he had to do was open his eyes, but Castiel was too busy focusing on relieving the tension overtaking his entire body.

“It’s not an it, Cas. _It_ is you.” He laughed, rubbing soothing circles into his hip with his thumb. “And it’s perfectly normal for _you_ to be nervous.”

Dean’s finger continued to prod and Castiel realised he didn’t need any more explanation. The slickness between his legs told him all he needed to know about the use of lubricant. He didn’t want to imagine attempting this without it. Despite his understanding, his body refused to get the message. He couldn’t take it. He wanted it so bad, but couldn’t take it.

“Hey.”

He felt the word against the shell of his ear, hot air spreading all across his cheek. Dean was on top of him again, the side of his head pressed against Castiel’s.

“Hey, I’m right here.” He kissed the wetness at his eyes, making Castiel gasp when he realised he was crying.

“I’m right here. It’s gonna be alright, Cas.” He pushed back off the mattress and Castiel was met with green eyes pouring into his tear soaked baby blue.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? You look so good all the goddamn time. I’ve thought about this, Cas. I’ve thought about you like this.” He whispered.

Castiel could only imagine the stupid bewildered look he had on his face, but Dean didn’t seem to care. The hunter went on and he felt himself melt under his words, deflate with every praise.

Dean closed the distance between them, kissing Castiel’s mouth almost chastely. “I’m going to take care of you. ‘M gonna make it feel good.”

Castiel gasped into Dean’s mouth as his finger breached the tight ring of muscle. His cock twitched against the base of his stomach at the sensation of having Dean inside him. He did not move and continued to work Castiel’s mouth with his own until the angel got used to the feeling. Just when the tension left his body, so did Dean’s finger, only to return in a deeper, stronger thrust that had Castiel writhing beneath him.

He couldn’t help it. It took all the effort in the world not to come apart under Dean, but Castiel just had to see. He lifted his head off the pillow and decided that there was nothing in the world more arousing than watching Dean fuck him with his fingers. The angel whined at the sight of Dean’s knuckle appear and disappear between his legs as he thrust in and out of him.

Castiel only fell back against the mattress when Dean added a second finger. He felt himself opening around him, adapting to the fullness as he stretched him out. When he got comfortable again, Dean thrust deeper, deeper than he had before and had Castiel arching his back, legs spreading wider, as a pool of liquid heat flooded his belly.

“Dean!” He cried and rocked back against the hunter’s fingers trying to get the fading sensation to return.

“Knew you’d like that,” Dean said, licking a stripe over his collarbone. “You do like it, don’t you?”

He thrust into him again, tenfold, hitting that same spot.

“Fuck, Dean. Yes. Please. Please, right there.” He whimpered between breaths as Dean fucked him with fingers, rocking him back and forth on the bed.

He wrapped his arms around the hunter’s neck, gripping at the short hairs. Dean growled as he tugged at the strands, making him go faster, harder, and just keep hitting that delicious spot. He delivered each time, fucking Castiel into a mess of parted lips, trembling limbs, and heaving breaths. Something was building up inside of him and Dean was bringing him closer and closer to the edge with every strong push of his fingers.

“Dean...” He called his name, but it came out like a broken sob. “I think... I think I’m gonna – “

The fingers stilled inside him and his entire body began to scream. It was a terrible feeling, like the world around was about to collapse if Dean didn’t keep going. His fingers slipped down Dean’s neck to grip at his collar. He tugged at the fabric bunched in his fists, desperately prompting Dean to continue.

“Please, Dean. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” Castiel begged breathlessly and closed his eyes, trying to focus on not losing his mind as his climax receded.

“I’m sorry angel.” And with that, Dean’s fingers left him entirely, Dean himself following as he stepped off the bed.

With the throbbing emptiness and loss of a warm body, Castiel felt like he was about to cry. That is, until he heard the distinct sound of a belt coming undone and dropping to the floor.

He opened his eyes to see Dean crawling back onto the bed, jeans hanging dangerously low on his hips and fly open to reveal what Castiel knew was a gorgeous cock sitting on top of the denim waistband.

Two hands hooked behind Castiel’s knees, pushing them up towards his chest as Dean positioned himself between his legs. The angel watched in awe when Dean pulled out the lube again to slick himself up. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips as Dean ran his hands up and down his cock, preparing himself for Castiel.

“Cas.” Dean said, drawing Cas’ eyes to his face as he continued to slowly jerk himself off. “I want to see you come on my cock. Do you understand what that means?”

Castiel had an idea what it meant, but he thought it best to chew on his bottom lip sheepishly instead.

“Teach me.” 

Dean’s hand came to a halt as his eyes rolled back into his head. “Fuck,” he hissed.

 “It’s your first time. How are you so goddamn sexy already?”

The head of his cock prodded at his entrance. The tight muscle stretched tautly around the tip as Dean steadily entered him . He watched the hunter close his eyes, mouthing profanities with his head thrown back as Castiel closed around his head.

It was hot. It was all so insanely hot.  Dean was no longer moving, but he could feel him twitching inside of him. He was holding back, jaw clenched and teeth gritting; the hunter looked like he was in pain.

“Talk to me, Cas.” He ground out. “How’s that feel?”

“Feels good. More, Dean. I want more,” he whined, bucking his hips upwards trying to get more of Dean’s length inside of him. He tightened himself around the head of Dean’s cock, pulling him in, increasing the pressure throbbing between them.

With a frustrated growl, Dean steadied his hips. His fingers digging into the flesh of his pelvis, Dean stared at him like a man on the edge of losing his mind.

“Don’t move like that. I won’t hold back.” He warned, furious green eyes quickly softened at the sight of Cas’ pout. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

Dean inched himself in very carefully, holding Cas with gentleness the angel had no idea the hunter had. As his cock buried deeper and deeper inside at a murderous pace,  Castiel took deep breaths, letting Dean stretch him open until he couldn’t go further.

They stayed like that for a while as Castiel got used to the delicious sting of being wrapped around Dean’s cock, all the way up to the hilt. They took deep breaths in sync, Cas trying to stay relaxed and Dean trying to take control of his body.

“Dean, please move. I’m ready.” He said.

Dean gave him one last hungry look before pulling out almost completely and ramming into him with absolutely no reservation. He kept up a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of him, angling his hips in a variety of ways until –

There was no air going into his lungs and no air coming out. He was choking on his breath mouth wide open, head throw back against the pillow.  

“Like that angel?” He asked, pulling out only to hit that sweet spot deep inside him again and again and again.

“Oh God, Dean... Dean, please don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” He chanted while Dean fucked him into the mattress.

Both their bodies rocked together as the hunter pounded into him hard and fast, the sound of slapping skin and heaving breaths filling the room. Dean had him spread wider than he thought possible. The hunter held an iron grip on the back of his knees, pushing them higher up to Castiel’s chest with every hard thrust.

“Christ, Cas. Look at you, just taking it. ” Dean panted.

He pushed his legs even further up so that his ass was practically off the mattress. Dean leaned forward for better access and Cas was almost bent in half. The new angle was unreal; Dean’s cock ramming into his prostate, milking him of every moan and gasp and whine.

“Love those filthy sounds you make. I fucking love them, Cas.” Dean growled as he slammed into him exceptionally hard.

“Dean!” Castiel all but shouted.

“Fuck yes, Cas. Say my name.” He slammed into him a second time, so hard that Castiel’s head hit the headboard.

“Dean, oh God...” He sobbed.

“One more time, baby.” He pulled him back by the legs away from the headboard only to shove himself deeper into him than before.

“Dean! Dean, oh my God... just.. just...”

It took him all of his strength to sit up on his elbows to level with Dean’s gaze, but he did. He let out the dirtiest of moans at the sight of Dean’s cock buried so deep inside him, making sure to make eye contact as he did.

“Just fuck me, Dean. Show me how to come on your cock.”

For a moment, Dean blinked, eyes wide and shocked. When he blinked again, the shock was gone and Castiel was in trouble.

“Oh, angel.”

Before he knew it, he was being pulled up into a sitting position. Dean had a fierce grip on his bicep and did not let go until they were face to face with Castiel’s legs wrapped around his waist. The angel shoved his fingers into Dean’s hair, pulling him into a bruising kiss that had them biting and licking at each other’s mouths.

Dean hands were  on his hips, fingers digging half-moon marks into the skin. They moved together. Dean had Castiel bouncing on his cock every time he thrust up.

“Dean. Dean. Dean.” Castiel breathed into the hunter’s neck. He ran his hands over his broad shoulders, feeling the curve fit right into his palm.

“I’ve got you, Cas. Gonna make you scream my name when you come. Make you blow your load between us. Nice and dirty. Would you like that, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean. Yes. God, please just –“

“Are you close?” He whispered against the shell of his ear. “Don’t hide from me.”

He was close. He could feel it building up inside him every time Dean’s dick fucked up against his prostate. Every time his cock rubbed between their moving bodies. Every time he met the hunter’s movement halfway, their bodies slamming into each other.

Castiel ground his hips desperately, matching Dean’s rhythm at first, only to pick up the pace when he felt he was going to fall over the edge.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck, Dean. I’m – I’m gonna – _Fuck._ ”

“Fuck, Cas. You’re all tight. C’mon baby, come for me.”

Two more bruising thrusts and Castiel felt the warmth overflow inside him.

“ _Dean_.”

He came in hot spurts over both their stomach, the warm come leaking and spreading between them as Dean rode out both their orgasms.

Castiel was shaking, slumped against Dean, while he came down from the climax. They panted into each other necks, arms wrapped tightly around one another. But no matter how hard Dean squeezed, the angel couldn’t stop trembling.

“Cas, you’re shaking.”

Without warning, Dean laid him down on the bed, draping himself over his body and then draping the sheets over both of them.

“Cas.” Dean said, louder. If he weren’t so tired, Castiel would smile at the worry in his voice. “Say something.”

“That was amazing.” He announced to the ceiling.

“Yeah.” Dean chuckled breathlessly, relieved.

“I mean, who knew you could deep fry Oreos – Ow!”

“Smartass,” Dean turned his head to smile at him and press a kiss to his arm where he elbowed him. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I am more than okay, Dean.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, that was amazing.”

“Do you... mean the Oreos or...?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I mean you fucking me raw until I couldn’t remember any name but yours.”

Dean was blinking at him again. “Shit, Cas. I am not used to hearing that stuff come out of your mouth.”

The hunter was halfway to closing the distance between their mouths when Castiel interrupted.

“Do you want to?”

“Do I want to what?”

“Get used to it.”

“Oh,” Dean growled, predatory grin spreading  across his face. “Definitely.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is doekent if you have any requests! Thank you for reading :)


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